Ride With the Moon In the Dead of Night
by mooksie01
Summary: Phil seriously needs to buy some allergy medicine or something. Or at least open a window next time he performs a demonic ritual. He wouldn't have thought that one little sneeze could've messed up a spell so bad, but now he has a demon on his hands and only six days to get rid of it before he's stuck with it forever. Phan. Witch!Phil and Demon!Dan.


**A/N: Happy Halloween! Or All Hallows' Eve, if you prefer! (Or it would've been if I had gotten this out in time). So I wrote a thing. It's Phan. Surprise, surprise. It's to- firstly- celebrate the end of another amazing Phantacular Spooky Week, and also to kind of belatedly celebrate the Phanniversary! I had too much stuff going on to write something for the 19th, so I decided to be a scrub about it and just mash two things together. Like the guy who invented chocolate covered pretzels. That person was a genius. Anyways, enjoy! Feeling: Spooky!**

 **Title From: This Is Halloween from The Nightmare Before Christmas Soundtrack**

 **Ride With the Moon In the Dead of Night**

A Phanfic

Phil hurried through the crowded street, nudging aside other life forms with muttered apologies. He wanted to get in and out of the shops quickly, okay? Already, Phil was carting around several bags of miscellaneous materials; Rhododendron Petals, Bottled Spiders' Legs (no spiders were harmed in the making of this product, the label assured), a few jars of Frankincense, Frog Saliva, a small bag of Lion Fur, the list went on and on. He had a lot of jobs this time a year, and those jobs required a _lot_ of ingredients. And of course, Phil still had to cleanse his own home before next Saturday, so he should probably grab a few things for that, too.

Phil breathed a sigh of relief as he finally bustled his way into his favorite shop in the plaza: The Doctor's Order. The best potion shop in London, in Phil's humble opinion. Phil darted around the shop, quickly loading a basket with even _more_ ingredients and supplies, mumbling quietly under his breath as he went. Nightshade, Jerusalem Cherries, Yew Seeds, a carefully-wrapped, clear container of Poison Ivy. Finally, Phil had everything he needed. Well. Almost everything.

"I need some chalk," Phil said brusquely to Janice, the checkout lady, as he placed his items down on the checkout counter.

Janice raised her eyebrow, "Alright, alright, Phil. Snippy."

Phil sighed softly, slumping, "Sorry, Janice; I'm just tired, is all. I have a ton of jobs to get done today."

"I bet," Janice smiled, turning around and pulling a key from her pocket to unlock the large glass cabinet of black chalk behind her, "You witch-types are always in high demand this time of year," She said, gingerly bagging the thin piece of chalk. The wendigo hybrid handed the small baggie to Phil, reaching up and scratching behind one of her delicate-looking antlers with skeletal fingers.

"Yeah. All Hallows' Eve is next week and all; all sorts of people are looking to get their house cleansed so they don't run into any demon problems," Phil agreed, taking the package from the woman and carefully slipping it into the pocket of his yellow, flannel-patterned shirt.

"Well," Phil began apologetically, "I have to be going. I have to cleanse my own house, too, and I'd like to get that done today before I forget. Sorry I can't stay and chat."

Janice waved him off, "That's fine, Phil. Get going and take care of your spells or potions or whatever you do. Don't stain anybody's carpet with that chalk like you did last time."

Phil flushed, "Hush; that was one time."

Janice laughed, "Get out of here, Witchy-Boy."

Phil groaned, "You're the worst," he muttered, picking up his bags and walking back out into the brisk October air. He turned and started in the direction of his home, intending to drop off his groceries before he did anything else. Just a few jobs and he could go home, thank goodness.

* * *

Phil sighed in relief as he finally closed the door to his flat behind him. He was exhausted. The jobs had taken a little longer than he had meant for them to, and at this point he just wanted to hurry up and cleanse his own home so that he could finally sit down and order some Thai food and watch anime.

Phil adjusted the strap of his messenger bag on his shoulder and bustled into his guest bedroom. Well, it used to be a guest bedroom. Now it was where Phil made his potions and performed his spells. It was a good system. A bubbling cauldron sat innocuously in the corner, a neon green glow being emitted from it; it was somewhat cliché, Phil knew, but cauldrons were just the most efficient tool available for large batches, okay? There was a large clear space in the center of the floor; all of Phil's other things obviously having been pushed right up against the wall to make room. Phil had had the carpet pulled up in this room because it just wasn't worth cleaning it every time he had to do a ritual of some sort. Speaking of which…

Phil set his bag down against the wall, kneeling down beside it and digging in the front pocket until his hand closed around the small baggie with the chalk he had bought in it. Already, half of the chalk had been used up. Phil really was busy this time of year. Phil quickly made his way to the middle of the room, crouching down and beginning to draw a pentagram on the floor, filling it in with assorted bits of Latin and other symbols wherever appropriate. The chalk lines on the ground remained a deep, charcoal black until Phil finally completed the circle, at which point a bright flash filled the room and the lines turned a dark, bloody red. Phil shuddered a little. Even after all these years, he still wasn't quite used to demonic rituals. He wasn't at all a fan. But it had to be done, and what kind of witch couldn't even cleanse his own house?

Phil sighed, re-bagging the little piece of chalk and gently setting it down on one of his many worktables in here. Phil hurried to the drawer in the corner and searched through it for a few minutes before triumphantly pulling out a bag of small, pink, strawberry-scented candles. What? If he was going to be cleansing evil spirits and demons from his home, he might as well make it smell nice while he was at it! Phil set a candle down at each star point, lit them, and at last he was ready to do the ritual.

Phil took his place just outside the pentagram, raising his arms and closing his eyes as he began to chant in fluent Latin.

Everything went well for a while, and then Phil had to go and mess it all up. Phil was _so close_ to being all done with the ritual when his nose began to itch a bit. Phil wrinkled his nose, hoping to relieve the faint tickling sensation so that he could hurry up and finish this thing. No such luck. Suddenly, before Phil had even realized what was happening, he sneezed, abruptly cutting off his chanting. Phil's eyes widened as the pentagram being to glow a bright red. _Oh shit_.

Phil backed up a few steps until his back hit the wall, his eyes wide with fear. Phil coughed hard as black smoke began to billow from the middle of the circle; it didn't smell bad, oddly enough- it actually smelled like cinnamon and a little bit like chocolate with a sweet mix of roses. Phil almost wanted to bottle it up and get some candles that smelled just like it. That didn't stop him from coughing when he inhaled it, though.

Phil's eyes snapped open as the smoke cleared all at once, his throat opening up and allowing him to breathe properly again. Phil sighed in relief. ' _Thank God nothing else happened,_ ' He thought, rubbing at his eyes, _'That could've been really-_ '

"Um, hello? Are you alright?"

Phil would say that he probably jumped about three feet in the air. His eyes darted up, locking with a set of soft auburn ones. A boy was standing in the middle of the pentagram; he had curly brown hair styled into a fringe that went the opposite way of Phil's own, pale skin, and fully black clothing, like one of those monochrome Tumblr themes. And then Phil saw the feature that he probably should have noticed first- _wings_. The boy had wings. Not the large, white-feathered ones that he was used to seeing on the backs of the occasional angels that walked about on the street, though they were similar; no, this boy's wings, despite also being large and feathered, were pitch black. They looked somewhat like they were angel wings that had been soaked in squid ink. Phil's eyes became impossibly wider.

"Oh my _God_!" Phil cried, pressing himself closer to the wall.

The- the _thing_ giggled, raising a partially jumper-covered hand up to cover his mouth, "No, no, no; think a little bit lower."

Phil's eyes widened, and then narrowed, " _Demon_."

The demon's eyes glittered with excitement, and he clapped his hands together happily, "Yeah, that's it! Why'd you summon me, human?" Dan smiled brightly at the cute witch boy who had invited him into his home.

Phil glared harshly at the demon, "My name is _Phil_ , and I didn't _summon_ you _anywhere_ ; you invited yourself in!"

The demon shrank back a little at the sharp tone, "But you opened the gate! I only came because you called me!" He said weakly.

"Well calling you was a mistake! Go back to Hell!" Phil hissed angrily.

The demon shuffled, hugging himself and staring down at the pentagram he stood in, "Um, I can't…"

"Why," Phil muttered, "Do you have to kill fifty people before you can go back, or something?"

The demon looked up at him sadly, flinching at his words, "Um, uh, no, I, uh, I actually, um, can't go back because, uh, you summoned me here, and, um, I can't really go, um, back until you, uh, you, you know, send me back… sorry… uh… yeah, I'm really sorry." The demon whispered, staring at him with doleful red eyes.

Phil snorted, turning away from the demon, "Whatever. I'll send you back tonight. I don't need you barging in on my life. And don't forget, demon," Phil began, turning quickly back around to face the creature, "You're in a witch's home. I can kill you with my eyes closed. Don't step out of line."

The demon whimpered, "I- I- um, yes. Yes. My name is, uh, my name is Dan… If you wanted to know… It's actually Daniel, but I don't like that name… And, um, to clarify, you don't want me stepping out of these lines, right? Um, my feet will probably start to hurt, but I can do that… uh, sorry. I'm talking too much… You probably want to start to, uh, get things together so you can get rid of me more quickly, uh… sorry. I'll shut up now."

Phil stared at the demon, _Dan_ , apparently, with a raised eyebrow, "That's an expression, Dan. I meant that you shouldn't cause trouble. I don't care what you do. You'll be gone soon, anyways."

"Oh!" Dan brightened up, "Is this one of those things that you humans say that doesn't really mean what it should mean? Like when you imply that fibbers have flaming trousers when they really don't? I've never understood that one…"

Phil stared at the demon incredulously, shaking his head slowly. He sighed, glaring again as he realized that this was probably all just an act, "Uh, yeah, I guess. Just don't cause trouble, and we won't have any problems," He finished icily. Dan looked down again.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry." Dan muttered softly, rubbing his arm.

Phil rolled his eyes, turning back around and walking toward his bookshelf and grabbing a thick tome off of it: _'On Demons and Demonesses: The All Inclusive Guide to Evil Spirits, Exorcisms, Cleansings, The Netherworld, and You! Updated Edition - 2000s'_

Dan stared at him curiously, one of his jumper-covered hands covering his mouth, "What is that?" He asked curiously.

Phil huffed angrily, "It's a book."

The demon flushed slightly, "I know that! What book is it?"

Phil turned to face Dan, showing him the cover of the book, if only to shut him up.

"'Exorcisms'…?" Dan murmured, looking downtrodden. His wings came up a bit, as if to shield him from the word on the cover of the book.

"Yes, exorcisms," Phil said, throwing him a dubious stare, "I have to get rid of you, don't I?"

"Yeah, I mean, uh, I guess," Dan conceded, toeing the ground with a black boot, "But, um, isn't there a way that's less, um, painful?"

"No." Phil answered curtly, pushing past Dan and opening the door to the small bedroom, making his way into the lounge. Phil plopped down on the couch with the large book, opening it up and skimming through the contents. Dan had followed him, apparently, because he was standing next to him all of a sudden, watching the pages flip past.

"Uh, forgive me for asking, Phil, but, uh, is there a reason that humans hate demons so much…?" Dan asked hesitantly.

Phil snorted, "Uh, maybe because you're unstoppable destructive forces of nature, killing machines, and literally evil personified."

Dan looked even more upset, if that was at all possible, "Oh… I mean, I didn't _choose_ to be a demon… That's just how I was born… Um… I don't remember doing anything evil… I spooked a hellhound once, was that it? I'm sorry…"

Phil almost felt guilty. _Almost_. The demon just looked so sad and Phil was generally a very nice person, but he had to remember that this was all an act. Demons were evil. History had proved it.

"Why don't you go read a book or something?" Phil muttered, "I need peace and quiet so that I can figure out how to get rid of you."

"Oh, uh, right," Dan whispered, quickly fleeing the room.

Phil sighed. Finally. Now he could figure out how to get rid of his little demon problem, and then he could continue with his everyday life.

Phil looked back down at the page he was on:

 _"_ _ **Summoning Demons and Soul Links - Part One**_

 _"When a demon is summoned, whether by accident or purposefully, a strong soul link is formed between the demon and the witch who summoned it. This soul link is what makes it possible for the demon to stay in the human dimension, rather than being trapped in the Netherworld._

 _"These soul links are a very important part of the summoning process, as without them, or when they are broken, the demon will be immediately banished back to the Netherworld. This process is said to be just as, if not more, painful than an exorcism of an uninvited, escaped demon. It is not possible for an exorcism to be performed on a summoned demon. If a witch or demon desires to be unlinked, the witch must dissolve the link themselves. There is currently no known way to do this without either the witch or the demon dying._

 _"Soul links are temporary for a varying period of time after the initial summoning of the demon. The time will vary depending on how many days are going to pass between the day of summoning the demon, and the next All Hallows' Eve. A soul link becomes permanent once the clock strikes midnight and begins the day of All Hallows' Eve. After this date, the soul link can no longer be dissolved. If temporary service is desired from a demon, it is not recommended to allow a soul link to become permanent. For more information on possible methods of dissolving soul links, as well as resources, see page 692._

 _"If a soul link is allowed to remain until the day of All Hallows' Eve, the soul link becomes permanent. The souls of the witch who summoned the demon, as well as the demon themselves, become infinitely intertwined. There is currently no known way to dissolve a link after this event, even if one of the parties is met with death. The other party has been known to quickly follow the first to their grave. This, of course, means that any linked demon will no longer have eternal life after a soul link becomes permanent. They will die with their witch, and, it is theorized, may even follow them to whatever afterlife awaits human beings after death. This is only a theory, however, and it is equally likely that the demon simply returns to the Netherworld, but is never able to escape again, or that the demon simply ceases to exist._

 _"Permanent soul links come with a few other limitations as well; the two parties will begin to have some semblance of control over each other; nothing especially extreme, but one party will be more likely to agree with the requests of the other, and vice versa. For the demon, there is, of course, their uncertain fate after their witch dies. The parties have been known in the past to feel a sort of emptiness, or even pain, if they are especially far apart, which makes separation after a link is formed impossible. If the demon is accidentally spawned, it is likely that the witch who summoned it had no ill intentions, but has now been placed in a position where they are forced to continue to interact with the evil spirit very often. Note: Demons should not be trusted - There has never been a record of a kind demon, although this is not impossible, and the College of Witchcraft continues to search for a subject with which they may test the theory. For more information on soul links and demon summoning, see pages 674-700."_

Phil swallowed hard as he finished reading the page. He could be stuck with Dan forever? And he only had _six days_ to get rid of him? And there wasn't even a known way to do it?!

Phil quickly flipped to page 692, praying that there was some kind of quick-fix, but all that he could find on the page were vague ideas and theories, as well as a few phone numbers that would direct you to some of the top experts on demons in the world of witchcraft.

Phil put his face in his hands. What was he going to do? He couldn't live with a _demon_ for the rest of his life! And maybe even the rest of his afterlife, if that theory was correct! No. He would figure this out. He _refused_ to be stuck with a _demon_ forever.

* * *

 **Noon of The First Day, 132 Hours Remain**

It had been one night and half a day and Phil was already entirely, one-hundred-percent done with this situation. He had searched tirelessly through that book all night, getting absolutely no sleep, and he had found _nothing._ Dan had been completely insufferable, though he was making it seem like he didn't know that he was. He kept asking if Phil had figured it out yet, and asking why Phil didn't just send him back last night because he was a witch and didn't witches know what they were doing when it came to these things? Phil was probably going to punch him before the end of these six days.

Another thing that had been annoying Phil was that Dan was so damn curious about everything. Every twenty minutes or so, he would bring an everyday object to Phil and ask him what it was and what it did and why in the world would anyone want that? Phil figured he probably knew what all of these things were, but he just wanted to annoy him. Phil was not amused. (Of course he could have also just been inquisitive, which Phil would have found incredibly endearing, but he _wasn't_ , and Phil _didn't_.)

And, as if he had been summoned- _ha_ \- Dan came around the corner, clutching an Xbox controller in his hands as if it was some kind of extremely-fragile artifact that would break if he so much as exhaled upon it. His wings were all fluffy and trembling with excitement and it was only a little bit cute. For a demon. And demons weren't cute. At all.

"Phil," Dan breathed, wonder coating his voice quite liberally, and, damn, Dan was a good actor, "What _is_ this?"

Phil gave him an unimpressed look, which seemed to make the demon deflate a bit, his auburn eyes turning closer to a dark shade of amber, but he still stared at him, determined to get an answer. Phil sighed. "It's just an Xbox controller, Dan."

"'Xbox'?"

Phil groaned, "It's… Well, essentially, you turn it on and you can play games on it, but the games are on the television, and you don't have to move to play them. That controller lets you play the games. Got it?"

Dan nodded unsurely, pressing the controller to his chest, "But, um, why would anyone want to do that? I thought the point of games was to move around… And, um, what kind of games…? Like, um, Pin the Tail on the Killer Spider, or?"

Phil stared at him with wide eyes, "I don't even want to _know_ what a killer spider is. Nope. Not about that life. But no; there are all sorts of games. A lot more than you know about. And I would explain them to you, but I'm busy, so…" Phil made a shooing motion with his hand, turning back to the book in his lap, one he had picked up at the shop that morning: _'On Demons and Soul Links: So You Got Yourself Linked With A Demon?'_ Yeah, the shopkeeper had given him a look when he put that one on the counter.

"Oh, sorry. Yeah, I'll leave you alone. Sorry. Again. Oh, I'm still wasting your time, aren't I? Sorry." Dan hurried out of the room, his cheeks red and eyes glinting with that same sad, puppy-dog look he had been giving Phil since Phil had snapped at him when he first arrived.

Phil sighed as he turned back to his reading:

 _"It has been theorized that cutting a soul link requires agreement to do so from both parties, which is where the problem lies. No sensible demon would give up the chance to terrorize humanity for the remaining lifespan of the witch who summoned them. It has been considered that perhaps demons know something we don't, and agree to what we believe will be their ultimate annihilation because they are aware that they will simply go back to the Netherworld, and perhaps even be able to escape again after a sort-of "grace period". Note: Captured demons have told us that the Netherworld is not a very nice place. We are unable to confirm, but the admittance has added some plausibility to the former theory, as demons would probably like to avoid returning to the Netherworld for as long as they were able if given the chance."_

Agreement from both parties, huh?

Hm.

* * *

 **Dawn of The Second Day, 112 Hours Remaining**

Phil's rude awakening the next morning is courtesy of Dan. And what sounds like _The Great British Bakeoff._ Fabulous. The sounds of thick English accents criticizing some poor woman's cupcakes ring loudly through the wall, and Phil can barely even hear the sound of the tired groan he lets out. Rolling over, Phil pulls his pillow over his head, groaning again when it does nothing to muffle the noise. Phil growls as he pulls himself out of bed, catching sight of the time on his alarm clock when he does so. 8am.

Phil stomps out of his bedroom and into the lounge, where he is immediately greeted with the sight of a very excited-looking demon practically vibrating with glee on the couch as he stares at the TV with rapt interest and curiosity.

"Just _what_ ," Phil hisses, unsure if the creature can even hear him over the blaring television, "do you think you're doing?!"

Dan looks up at him with a wide smile, "Look, Phil! The pictures are _moving_! And the people are talking! That siren woman has a very nice voice."

Phil glares at him, snatching the remote out of the air from where Dan seems to have it levitating, controlling it with whatever weird powers he has. Phil hopes his TV remote won't be possessed forever, now. "That's probably because she's a _siren_ , Dan. That's kind of what they're known for."

Dan pouts at him as he turns the TV down, "No, Phil! Don't do that! Isn't it so cool?! The surface world is amazing!"

Phil scoffs, "I'm sure you have stuff like this in the Netherworld, Dan."

Dan stares at him confusedly, "No, not really. Not stuff like this, I mean. Um. We have, uh, trees? Yeah. We have a few trees, but they don't have leaves and flowers and fruit like yours do, and, uh, we have… Lots and lots of gray sand. Like. A lot. And we have… Animals. I think. Most of them are pretty angry though. Not like yours. Your so-called _llamas_ are _fascinating_. And very cute. I think you should get one for a pet. Um, but that's beside the point… Oh! We have a _ton_ of darkness. We can see alright in it, but I don't think you would be able to. Everything's, uh, everything's pretty dark down there. Dim. Shadowy. Um. Dark. A little scary, sometimes."

Dan was smiling brightly at him, but there was something a little sad in his eyes that made some small part of Phil's heart ache just a teeny, tiny bit. Something in the way that his wings lay flat, unanimated, against the couch. It was like he was trying to put a positive spin on something he hated. In fact, Phil got the feeling that that was exactly what he was doing. But it wasn't like Phil felt bad. He was a demon. Maybe if they weren't so awful, they wouldn't have to live like that. Dan was probably just waiting for his moment to strike. Or he was going to screw Phil over when he tried to send him back. _Surely_ there were no good demons. Everyone knew that.

"Well don't mess with my stuff," Phil muttered, a little less harshly than he had originally intended.

Dan drew back, wringing his hands nervously in his lap, "Sorry. I was just curious… I wanted to see as much as possible before you send me back, is all. Sorry. I, um, I won't do it anymore."

Phil sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. He sat down on the couch, attempting to ignore the way Dan flinched away from him slightly. Dan was fine. He was a big, bad, deceptive demon. As long as Phil kept it in his head that this was all just one big lie so that Phil would let his guard down, he wouldn't feel any guilt. Yeah. Dan was lying. And Phil totally had a perfect grip on the situation.

Except maybe he didn't. If Phil was being honest with himself, he had no idea how to get rid of Dan. Death wasn't an option. Well, at least it wasn't for Phil. And Phil would feel bad killing something, demon or not. And sure, it would probably be a good idea for Phil to just call an expert- to ring one of the numbers in one of his books, but he couldn't bring himself to do it just yet. Maybe if he got really desperate, he would, but for right now? No way. What a blow it would be to his pride. _'Oh, yeah, sorry, I'm almost thirty years old, I've been doing this for years, but I managed to summon a demon by accident because of some mild allergies; woopsie-daisy!'_ Yeah, Phil would never get mocked for that one.

He would just stick it out. Keep studying. Keep reading. He'd figure something out, for sure.

He had this all under control.

* * *

 **Afternoon of The Third Day, 79 Hours Remaining**

He hadn't meant for it to happen, okay? He just kind of… lost it, is all. It was an honest mistake, happens to people all the time; he was stressed. Except maybe people didn't usually mess up as badly as he had and he finally allowed some guilt to crash over him. But that was a little far ahead, wasn't it?

Phil was sitting on the couch about twenty minutes ago. He was back to reading _'On Demons and Demonesses […]'_ , and he still couldn't get anything useful out of it. Dan was sitting next to him, reading over his shoulder, eyes skimming rapidly over the pages, though he looked a little disturbed. Phil could kind of understand why. He was reading the section on exorcisms and common demon behavior when presented with impending banishment (or death), after all.

"Hey, Phil?" Dan asked softly, fiddling with the sleeves of his jumper in a way that Phil had come to realize meant he was nervous (or at least, he was pretending to be).

"What?" Phil muttered, keeping his tone carefully even. Maybe Dan was about to tell him some kind of important clue that would help him send him back.

"Why do you want to send me back so much? It's so nice here, and the surface world is so interesting and everything is so _advanced_ , and-"

And just like that, Phil snapped. His nerves were frayed from this entire ordeal, and he was sick of Dan's faux meek, sweet, kind personality, and he was just 110% _done_.

So he snapped.

"Do you really want to know why I want to send you back so much, _Dan_?!" Phil snarled, slamming his book shut and standing up, looming over the demon, who suddenly looked very small and scared, "Do you _really_ want to know?! Well I'll tell you, _demon_. Maybe, just maybe, I don't want such a disgusting, damnable, awful, evil, horrendous, deceptive, _terrible_ life form in my home, did you ever think of that?! Maybe I'm tired of your lies and deceit and your little "Look How Sweet and Innocent I Am" act! Maybe I'm a little angry that you just _waltzed_ into _my_ home, uninvited, and made yourself comfortable, and forced all of this stress upon me! Maybe I _don't_ want to be forced to spend the rest of my life with you, how about that, did you ever think of that?! Huh?!"

The demon stared up at him with tears in his eyes, his wings shifting to almost completely hide him, all puffed up again, but this time for a completely different reason. "I- I'm sorry… I didn't mean to! I thought you invited me! I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I didn't mean to make you upset… No wonder humans don't like demons- we're just annoying nuisances, and- and, uh, I- I'm so sorry…" Dan let out a strangled whimper, darting up and sprinting toward the nearest window, throwing it open and jumping out.

Phil almost had a heart attack in that moment. He sprinted to the window, guilt already beginning to take over. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw large black wings carrying a tall form through the sky, away from the flat. Then he furrowed his brows. Why would he be relieved? It wasn't like anything he said wasn't true… right? Phil ran his hand through his hair. It didn't matter anyways; he had to go retrieve the demon so that he could send him back. He couldn't send the demon back to the Netherworld if the demon wasn't even here. He quickly went over to the closet, rifling around for a second before pulling out an old, beat-up-looking broom.

Phil stared warily at the ground, thirty feet under the window. Alright, he was fine. He slowly drew himself out of the window, balancing precariously for a moment until he could get the broomstick between his legs. He released the window frame, relieved when the old broom held him up without any trouble. Phil stared at the horizon, sighing and urging the broom forward so that he could begin searching.

* * *

Dan was flying.

He didn't know where to, or for how long he planned to fly; all he knew was that he wanted to get as far away from Phil and his house as possible.

The wind ruffled his feathers and hair as he flew; the sun was warm on his face, contrasting sharply with the stinging, crisp air that bit at any and all exposed skin. The experience probably would have been very exciting, so much different than flying in the Netherworld, but all Dan could focus on was trying not to let his soft sobs affect his flight too much.

He didn't mean to upset the cute witch boy. Phil. He didn't mean to upset _Phil_. He never chose to be a demon; it wasn't his fault… but… If Phil really believed all of those things about demons, they had to be true, right? All of those stories and beliefs had to come from somewhere, right? Maybe Dan's evil just hadn't set in yet? Maybe when he got older, in a few years, he would suddenly start to get the urge to rip other monsters limb from limb, like what it said demons did in Phil's book. Maybe, maybe, maybe…

But… But Dan didn't want to be like the demons in Phil's books! Or like some of the other demons he had met in the Netherworld! He wanted to live up here with all of the nice surface monsters and learn about all of the fascinating things they had created, and see all of those beautiful flowers he had heard stories about from other demons who had been to the surface world before. He wanted to finally see a real llama. They were _so_ fascinating.

But it seemed like that would never happen. Because Dan was a demon, and demons were evil, and the monsters on the surface world didn't like demons, so Dan wasn't allowed to be up here with them. He would only cause trouble, Phil told him so.

Dan choked slightly on his tears, losing an alarming amount of altitude as he did so. He decided it probably wasn't a good idea to keep flying right now, and started looking for a place to land. There was a large piece of land right in the middle of the city, with lots of trees and ponds and winding paths, and Dan came to the conclusion that it was as good a place as any, slowly touching down next to one of the ponds. Dan leaned his back against a tree, sliding down the smooth bark and sitting on the soft grass.

Dan skimmed his hand over the soft blades of vibrant green. He would miss this when Phil sent him back. Everything really _was_ so pretty here. Dan sniffled, another tear making its way down his face. He really did feel bad for making Phil so upset. He hoped Phil wouldn't make good on his promise to kill him after he'd caused so much trouble for him.

Dan's melancholy musings were interrupted by a loud sound from the pond. Dan looked up. A large bird was swimming through the water, accompanied by a few others. They weren't there when Dan had landed, so he assumed that they had just landed a minute ago, when he hadn't been paying attention. They all had black heads and necks, long necks, with bits of white here and there. The rest of their plumage was a pretty mix of brown, white, and more black. Dan was pretty sure that they were called _geese_. He thought they were really very beautiful.

Dan hesitantly allowed his wings to spread in an inviting gesture, but all he got for his effort was a few angry, startled honks and squawks. He slumped back against the tree trunk, his wings dropping to the ground. Even the _birds_ on the surface world were scared of him. He must really be awful.

Dan was once again interrupted, but this time by a softer sound, one that probably wouldn't be heard by most, but that his keen ears were quick to pick up on. He heard the quiet noise of grass giving way under someone's feet and looked up, scared.

Phil was standing a few feet beside him, leaning a bit on a broom that he was holding with two hands by his side. He looked a little guilty, but Dan doubted that he truly was. Besides, Dan had deserved everything he had said anyways.

Dan scrambled to stand. He backed up a few steps, wings spreading in preparation for flight.

"Oh…" He murmured softly.

* * *

It had been easier than expected to find the emotionally compromised demon.

It seemed things went a little… unstable… right along with his feelings. Phil had just followed the path of flickering streetlights and harried police officers trying to frantically direct traffic as it seemed that a few traffic lights were on the fritz.

And it had led him to a park. It was a large one, well-known around the city for being a surprisingly quiet place to escape to when you wanted to get away from the bustle and sound of traffic. Phil had been there himself a few times.

Flying over the park, Dan wasn't hard to spot. There weren't many people there in the first place, and he was the only one with a large pair of black, feathery wings, so he stuck out, just a little.

Phil decided that he would wait up here for a few minutes; observe what, no-doubt, would be the revealing of Dan's nefarious plot- his true reason for acting so nice and sweet.

But… there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Phil watched for twenty minutes and all that happened was the demon slowly calming down from crying. He felt guilt clench at his heart when he saw Dan attempt to make friends with a flock of geese, only to be rejected by the feathered fiends.

But… _surely_ Dan was evil? There was no such thing as a friendly demon. Dan must've felt his presence and kept up the act…

Oh, who was he kidding? Phil knew that that was impossible. He was just lying to himself at this point. Dan had been nothing but sweet to him the entire time he had been here, and what had Phil done? He had treated him like trash. He had done the one thing he swore he would never do, and he had treated him like absolute _rubbish_. He hated bullies, but now he was the bully- throwing his weight around just because of some _stories_ he had read. What kind of witch was he? His kind was supposed to consider every possibility, accept nothing as fact, and always realize that the impossible was most-likely possible. They were the most magically-adept race on the planet; they knew quite well that every theory had a counter-argument because that's just how things _worked._ Maybe they had never found a decent counter-argument for their theories on demons, but that didn't mean that one didn't exist. And Phil had found one and he had treated him _terribly_.

The guilt train was pulling into the station, and Phil was the conductor.

Slowly, Phil carefully circled around the pond and made a landing near Dan. The demon looked up, and something sparked in his eyes that made Phil feel a little nauseous. Dan darted up, taking a few steps back, and Phil realized that the look in his eyes was _fear_ and his heart sank. The demon flapped his wings a few times, and Phil quickly came to the conclusion that he was about to take off again.

Phil heard him mutter something under his breath, and it was like a queue for him to launch into action. He sprang forward, grabbing Dan's wrist and wincing when the demon started making sad, mournful noises like some kind of dying animal. Dan struggled a bit, and Phil was sure that he could've easily overpowered him if he wanted, but he seemed hesitant to hurt Phil, and Phil was struck with another hot spike of guilt.

"Wait!" Phil shouted, hoping that Dan could hear him over the din he was creating, "I just want to talk to you!"

The demon stopped thrashing suddenly, staring at him hesitantly from between his large, fluffy wings. Phil sighed in relief.

"I'm sorry," Phil blurted. Dan perked up, looking at him now with wide, confused eyes. He had tear tracks on his cheeks, and Phil was once again greeted with the now-familiar stab of guilt that he felt every time that Dan gave him a look like that or did something sweet or anything, really, "I was awful to you, and I'm so sorry. I'd just heard all my life that all demons were evil, and I was convinced that you being so nice was all just an act, but it wasn't and I know that now and I'm sorry!"

The demon looked mildly upset, and Phil was concerned for a moment that he had done something wrong.

"But Phil," Dan whimpered, "You were right. I- I'm just as bad as all of those other demons! Even the geese don't like me, so I must be evil!"

Phil's expression crumbled, "No, that's not true! You're more kind than most of the people I know here! I'm sorry I was so terrible to you! And the geese don't know anything, they're scared of everyone."

Dan's wings slowly drew away from their defensive position, "R-Really?"

Phil nodded, "Really. I'm sorry."

Dan threw his arms around Phil's neck, startling him. The thought flitted through his mind, for a very brief moment, that he had been right all along, and now Dan was strangling him and he would be dead in a few seconds, but nothing happened, and Phil soon realized that Dan was just hugging him. Just showing his affection and gratitude in a very non-demonic way that he must've learned from television.

Carefully, Phil wrapped his arms around Dan's waist, cautiously hugging him back. Dan didn't seem to notice his hesitation, his wings coming up and wrapping around Phil as well, and Phil was surprised by how soft they were. For some reason, he had expected them to be rough and scraggly, but, just like Dan; they seemed to only look scary. They were just soft and nice once you saw what they truly were.

Slowly, Phil drew back, "So you're willing to forgive me for being so terrible?"

Dan nodded happily, "I'm sorry I made you upset."

Phil smiled sadly, "Don't apologize. I'm the one who should apologize. Now come on, we still need to figure out how to get you home."

Dan's expression dropped, but he quickly plastered his smile back on his face, "A- Alright."

It didn't matter what he thought. All that mattered was that he kept Phil happy. He didn't want to make him upset again, after all. So he would help him figure it out. Besides, he was still cute. Even if he was a little cranky.

* * *

 **Evening of The Fourth Day, 52 Hours Remaining**

Phil was on the phone. He had finally given in and dialed one of the many numbers in the larger of his two books on the subject of demons, and he was now talking to a Dr. Susan Striker. Phil thought she had a phenomenal name, personally.

"Alright," Dr. Striker began pleasantly, "So you have a demon problem, hm?"

Phil flushed slightly, thankful that he wasn't talking to her face to face, "Uh, yes. I do. Have a demon problem, I mean."

The doctor laughed, "I know what you mean, dear. Don't be embarrassed, we get calls about problems like yours more often than you'd think. So what's going on, dear? Accidental summoning, ineffective cleansing, escaped demon?"

Phil hurried to answer, "Um, the first one. Accidental summoning."

Dr. Striker sounded concerned when she spoke again, "Oh, dear. That's a bit of a problem. Well, the best we can do is try to figure out a solution, but, as I'm sure you know, nobody has been able to do that yet in all of the time that we've been studying demons… But there's a first time for everything. First, though, and I'm sorry, this is a formality and I don't have a choice, I need to analyze the danger level of the demon you summoned."

Phil nodded, correcting himself and speaking when he realized that the doctor wouldn't be able to see his affirmation, "Oh, yes, of course, that's alright."

Phil heard a slight rustle through the speaker, and assumed that she was getting a form of some kind. "Alright, first I'm going to need your full name, dear."

"Philip Michael Lester," Phil answered patiently, leaning against the dining table. Dan was in the lounge, currently enraptured by the television.

"Okay, dear, now I need you to tell me how aggressive your demon has been so far on a scale of one to ten."

Phil sighed, preparing for the difficult part, "Zero."

"Zero?" Dr. Striker asked incredulously.

"Zero," Phil confirmed, "He's been completely passive since he arrived. He keeps apologizing for coming and messing up my week, too. He's harmless."

"Oh, my," The doctor said breathlessly, "And you're sure that he's not just pretending?"

"Positive," Phil stated, "I may or may not have spied on him yesterday. He acted exactly the same. He's been very gentle."

"You're _sure_ he's a demon?" Dr. Striker murmured, astonishment practically dripping from her words.

"Yes."

"Describe his appearance, please, Mr. Lester," Dr. Striker requested, though Phil got the feeling it was more of a demand.

"Well," Phil began, "He's a little over six feet tall, curly brown hair, bright red eyes that change color _constantly_ , and large, black, feathered wings. Besides that, he just looks human."

"You've found what you believe to be a completely harmless demon," The doctor giggled, "I hope this is true, Mr. Lester; it would be incredible. Well… provided this _is_ true, you are able to just allow the deadline to pass and him to stay on this plane. I know it's not what you'd prefer, but as long as he's not a danger, your case is less of a concern. We do have to finish filling this form out though, Mr. Lester; so, if you could, has he told you his name?"

Phil took a moment to absorb everything the doctor had said before he answered her, "Yes, ma'am," Phil nodded, "He told me his name was Daniel, but asked me to call him Dan."

"Alright, Dear," The doctor stated, and Phil heard a few more rustling sounds.

The call went on like that for a while; Dr. Striker would ask miscellaneous questions about Dan's behavior, appearance, and personality, as well as what knowledge he seemed to have of the mortal plane. After she was all done with that, she talked to Phil about what he had and hadn't tried to get rid of Dan, and recommended a few more methods and ideas. Finally, with an apology for not being of more assistance, the doctor hung up.

Phil sighed. It seemed that that was all just a big waste of time. As he went out to join Dan in the lounge, though, some of the doctor's words came back to him:

 _"Well, Mr. Lester; if you don't succeed and the demon remains, I would appreciate it if you would call me back and let me know. We need to get him registered if he'll be staying. None of us would grudge you if you decide to let him stay, either- Heaven knows we would if we had a non-dangerous demon on our hands. But that's entirely your choice, of course. Just… think about it, Mr. Lester. Sometimes, we don't know what we have until it's gone. It's likely you'll never see your demon again if you send him back to the Netherworld."_

Phil thought about her suggestion as he stared at Dan's gleeful face. He wouldn't be letting him stay, though. Of course not. He wouldn't miss Dan at all when he sent him back.

…Right?

* * *

 **Noon of The Fifth Day, 36 Hours Remaining**

Phil was reading again. He didn't know why he was still bothering to comb through these books, it was pretty obvious he wasn't getting anything from it, but he was still looking. He was starting to panic now. He had so little time left, yet he still had very few leads.

Dan was sitting in the middle of the floor, reading one of Phil's books: _"On Harpies, Mermaids, and Sirens: The Origin of the Song"_ , and absentmindedly combing one of his hands through his great wings- preening, it seemed. Phil didn't really mind. He had, for the most part, kept Dan away from his books on demons. Most of it wasn't stuff that would be good for the demon to read, but he didn't care if Dan read one of his books on other magical creatures- it might sate some of his curiosity.

Dan suddenly turned and smiled up at him, "Did you know that sirens only exist because harpies and mermaids used to mate so often that they ended up creating a crossbreed? And that most of the siren's singing talent comes from their mermaid blood, but the captivating part of it came from harpies?"

Phil smiled back at him weakly, "I did, actually. I've read that book before."

Dan blushed, looking away, "Oh, right."

Phil felt a little guilty for shutting him down, "It's an interesting fact, though. I bet most other people probably wouldn't know that."

Dan's bright smile was back, "Really?"

Phil laughed, "Really."

Dan turned shyly back to his book, "I'll keep that in mind, then. Maybe… Um… Maybe I can, uh, tell one of the others in the Netherworld... or something."

Phil noticed Dan deflate again, like he did every time one of them brought up sending him back to the Netherworld. Phil felt bad about that, too, but as nice as Dan was, he didn't want to see him every day for the rest of his life.

Even if he was really cute and nice and endearing and…

Wait, what?

* * *

 **Evening of The Final Day, 10 Minutes Remaining**

Phil slumped down onto the couch, putting his head in his hands. Dan gingerly sat down next to him, hesitantly laying a hand on his upper arm.

"I- I'm sorry…" Dan murmured quietly. This was all his fault. Phil couldn't send him back, and now the witch would be stuck with him forever.

"Not your fault…" Phil mumbled, lifting his head to look at the demon. Dan's eyes glinted, turning the color of rubies as he gaped at him.

"What? But you said-"

"I know," Phil interrupted, "But I shouldn't have. You were right, Dan; _I_ was the one who invited you, even if it wasn't on purpose. I only blamed you because I was upset. We might as well get that out of the way now if we're going to be spending the rest of our lives together."

They sat in silence for a moment before Dan hesitantly piped up, "Um, Phil?"

"What, Dan?"

"Doesn't magic always require a willing agreement from both parties?"

Phil shook his head, "Not when demons are involved, Dan. After all, you guys can come into any house you want as long as it hasn't been cleansed by a witch before Halloween."

Dan shook his head, "No, but that's exactly it, Phil; the portals open and allow us in because whoever owns the house _willingly_ decided not to get their house cleansed that year. And I could only come through here because even if you didn't mean to create one, you made a portal that would lead me here, which would be a _willing_ invitation."

Phil's eyes widened, "Dan, you- you're a _genius_."

Dan stared at him confusedly, "I am?"

Phil laughed, standing up with a wide grin, "You are! Would you be willing to go back to the Netherworld if I asked you to?"

Dan's eyes widened. His expression crumbled, but Phil hardly noticed with how excited he was now that they had finally figured out a way to send Dan back, "I- I mean, _yes_ , but-"

"Thank you!" Phil exclaimed, seizing Dan in a brief hug before hurrying away with a quick order to meet him in the guest bedroom.

Dan stared at the ground for a moment with shocked eyes before sighing softly. So this was it. He quickly made his way to the bedroom. There was no point in being difficult for Phil, after all.

Phil bustled around, quickly lighting candles and directing Dan to stand on the pentagram that was still drawn out in the middle of the floor. He glanced at the clock in the corner. Two minutes. He had to hurry.

"Daniel, will you willingly return to the Netherworld?" Phil demanded once Dan was standing in the circle. He hoped that Dan wouldn't show some kind of true colors now and say no.

Dan bit his lip, tearing up a little, though he hoped Phil wouldn't notice, "Y- Yes. Yes, I, uh, I will."

Phil grinned brightly. One minute. He could say the incantation in that time, easy. Quickly, Phil began to chant under his breath, the words steadily getting louder. Soon he would never have to worry about Dan again.

 _'The surface world is amazing!'_

 _'I'm sure you have stuff like this in the Netherworld, Dan.'_

 _'No, not really. Not stuff like this…'_

Phil almost faltered a little, but he pressed on. This is what he wanted, wasn't it? He was finally getting rid of Dan. Yeah. Everything would go back to normal after this. Just a little bit longer.

 _'I was just curious… I wanted to see as much as possible before you send me back, is all.'_

Phil grit his teeth. He was _doing_ this. He wasn't going to back out. He had his own life to worry about.

 _'Just… think about it, Mr. Lester. Sometimes, we don't know what we have until it's gone. It's likely you'll never see your demon again if you send him back to the Netherworld.'_

Phil exhaled slowly, continuing the incantation. He had twenty seconds to finish. And he _would_ finish.

 _'Why do you want to send me back so much?'_

Phil's eyes snapped open. Dan was whimpering softly, standing dejectedly in the middle of the pentagram, the entire room lit with a soft red glow. He had ten seconds. He only had a few more words to say. It would be so easy to finish, to send Dan back to the Netherworld.

He would never have to worry about Dan again.

He would never have to see the way Dan's face lit up when he found something new again.

He would never have to hear the cute frustrated noises Dan made when he could reach a spot on his large wings to preen it again.

He would never have to listen to Dan's little facts that he had gleaned from Phil's books again- facts which Phil already knew, but would listen interestedly to anyways.

It would be so easy…

…But…

Phil stopped.

He had only had one more word to go.

The clock chimed as it struck midnight.

 _He couldn't do it._

* * *

 **First Hour of The Seventh Day, X Hours Remaining**

Phil breathed heavily, chest heaving as he abruptly ended the spell.

Dan was staring at him confusedly, "Phil…?"

Phil couldn't do it. He couldn't send Dan back. Not knowing that it would make Dan so upset.

And if he was being honest with himself, it would make him upset, too.

"Phil, what are you doing…? You missed your deadline… Now you're stuck with me…"

Phil had missed his deadline.

He couldn't say that he was very upset about that.

"Phil…?"

Phil finally looked up.

Dan was still standing in the middle of the pentagram, staring at him with wide, befuddled eyes. He had his arms wrapped around his torso in a gesture that Phil found very reminiscent of their first couple days together.

"Yes, Dan?"

"Phil… Phil, you missed your deadline."

"I know."

"Why?"

Phil stared carefully at the demon, taking in his open, honest expression and slightly defensive body language. He knew why he couldn't send Dan back now.

"I didn't want to send you back, Dan."

"But…?"

"I was wrong again."

Dan stared at him, eyes lighting up like a fire that had just had a can of petrol dumped all over it. "You- You're letting me stay?"

Phil nodded, squeaking when he was suddenly engulfed in a mess of demon and feathers. Dan was hugging him tightly, arms wrapped in a vice grip around his torso. Phil laughed, hugging the demon back.

"Am I dreaming?" Dan asked breathlessly.

"I don't know," Phil grinned mischievously, pinching Dan's bum, "Are you?"

Dan squeaked and Phil giggled.

"But… you're not upset that you have to stay with me now?"

Phil rolled his eyes, grabbing Dan's hand and dragging him out to the lounge, plopping down on the couch and dragging the demon with him.

"No. I want to keep you here," Phil stated, flushing as he realized how that could sound, "N- Not because I like you or anything! For science. And stuff."

Dan giggled, blushing and shyly turning away, "Thank you…" He whispered bashfully.

Phil blushed too, aware of how obvious his lie had been. His eyes sparkled as he thought of something, "If you're going to be staying here, though…"

Dan's head snapped back to him, "Yes?" He breathed.

"You're going to have to watch Black Butler with me," Phil nodded seriously, agreeing with his own statement.

" _'Black Butler'_?" Dan asked curiously.

Phil nodded again, "Black Butler. That will be funny as… _Hell_."

Dan groaned, " _Phil_."

Phil cackled, "Oh my gosh! I now have a constant excuse to make puns! Yes!"

Dan pouted, "Maybe you should have sent me back after all."

"Oh come on, Dan," Phil grinned, wiggling his eyebrows at the demon, "Don't be… _hellish_."

Dan giggled softly, blushing again, "Oh, that was awful…"

Phil laughed, throwing an arm around the demon's shoulders.

"I don't know, Dan, I thought it was pretty… _hell_ arious."

Dan groaned.

Phil was pretty sure he was laughing, though.

He counted it as a win.


End file.
